Marcus frowned and reached for the folder.
I moved it out of his reach.
The first document was a completed sale agreement. The house had been sold the previous afternoon to a local retired couple, with thirty days granted for me to remove my belongings.
The second document was the lease for my new condominium in a secure senior community across town.
The new keys in my bag belonged to a home where nobody could enter without permission.
Marcus stared at me.
“You sold our family house?”
“It was never the family house,” I replied. “It was mine.”
Bianca turned toward him, furious. She had already given notice on their apartment because Marcus had assured her that I had agreed to the arrangement. Doris had placed most of her furniture in storage.
The movers refused to unload once the new owners’ representative arrived and confirmed that Marcus had no authority over the property.
He accused me of making his children homeless.
“You had a home,” I said. “You surrendered it because you believed taking mine would be easier than solving your own problems.”
Bianca ordered Marcus to find them a hotel. Doris demanded that he repay the moving expenses.
For once, everyone looked toward him instead of me.
Marcus had arrived believing motherhood entitled him to my house.
The folder taught him that my love had never included permission to take over my life.
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